


Letter of Acceptance

by seekersDownfall (serendipitousDescent)



Series: Letters [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitousDescent/pseuds/seekersDownfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shokrakar,</p>
<p>I know you’re the ones spreading those rumours - I’d recognize Katoh’s spin on a story in a heartbeat. Mostly because if I were to sleep with such a great number of women, I certainly wouldn’t bother going to each of their rooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letter of Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? An additional piece to Letter of Intent? Yup. 
> 
> There's a chance I might end up writing more along these lines. I like the format and sometimes it's nice to get away from my usual stuff to write unrepentant fluff. Also, this can definitely be read as a stand-alone but you're more than welcome to read the one before it as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Shokrakar,_

* * *

“I’ve heard some… interesting rumours about you.” 

Adaar stopped in her tracks and let the door close behind her with a soft thud. She hadn’t been here for more than a few days. Surely they would have needed a bit more time to acquire information about her. It was bad enough that the spymaster had seen through her with only a look but she hadn’t expected the gorgeous Antivan woman to be quite as knowledgeable. 

At least Minaeve was preoccupied with picking something apart in her corner of the room. From the rumours Adaar had heard about herself since she’d woken up, it was an easy assumption that she didn’t want anyone repeating them in polite company or otherwise. 

Hopefully they hadn’t changed their mind on the whole execution business.

“You have? What sort of rumours would they be?” she asked, swallowing back her hesitation.

The look she was given was one of practiced amusement. Adaar had seen it on clients’ faces a thousand times, always after one of them had said something nearly offensive. “The hopefully exaggerated sort. Please tell me you didn’t lead a band of mercenaries before this.”

“Not exactly?”

It was true. 

Mostly.

Shokrakar would have never given up leadership of Valo-Kas and Adaar wouldn’t have wanted it even if she had the opportunity to. If there had been a few occasions where she’d taken charge of a small branch of the Valo-Kas in order for them to complete multiple jobs at once, well, that didn’t count. At least, Shokrakar would have had her washing dishes if she ever suggested it. Right beside Kaariss for an entire month.

Nevermind that half of the camp - the _Inquisition_ as they were calling themselves - had been saying just that, alongside the other things they were saying. She supposed there were worse rumours that could have made it to the ambassador’s ears. Like how she didn’t know how to be anything other than a mercenary. Or her supposed prowess in bed. 

Being called the Herald of Andraste was already bad enough. 

Josephine raised one of her delicate-looking eyebrows. “And what do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”

“Security detail sounds better. And I definitely wasn’t in charge of the Valo-Kas. In fact, it would probably just be simpler for you to think of me as an underpaid but undeniably gorgeous swordswoman sworn to fight for this cause of yours.”

Oh no. Had those words really just come out of her mouth? She wished Koslun or the Maker or one of the Dalish gods or just _someone_ would strike her down where she stood. Otherwise she’d wake up tomorrow morning to find out this hadn’t just been some twisted dream. 

If only it hadn’t been the ambassador - Josephine, Adaar reminded herself. Someone more like - well, she wasn’t sure. There weren’t many around the camp that she knew yet and she doubted flirting with Cassandra would be quite this awkward. If only because then she’d mean it as a joke. 

“That… it’s not ideal but I can make it work.” Josephine hummed and then came the telling scritch-scratch of her quill against the paper. “Hired to protect the Divine. Of course, it was hardly your fault that things went south. With any hope, the Chantry will take to this like a flock of birds.”

“I-”

“Thank you, Herald. Now, I need to get back to work. These letters aren’t going to write themselves.”

It was difficult not to just stand there, gaping, for a few minutes longer. Josephine was acting as if Adaar hadn’t just made a horribly awkward attempt at flirting. But she managed to turn around, carefully avoiding Minaeve’s gaze as she wandered out the door and into the war room where she stopped. Entirely. It was lucky there was a wall for her to slide down as she attempted to wipe the entire encounter from her mind.

How had Josephine not even blinked at the obvious pass? It was mortifying. It had been mortifying before Josephine had continued the conversation. 

If only the Valo-Kas were here. They would be far from sympathetic but their teasing had always made her feel a bit better after both rejection and affair. Katoh, in particular, had a habit of getting her spectacularly drunk and then declaring that any pretty girl should be lucky to have her.

And of course, Leliana would find out. It didn’t even matter that Minaeve had been the only other person in the room; Adaar was certain the next time she stopped by the spymaster’s tent, she’d be welcomed by the woman’s unamused glare. And then Cassandra would really be the only person in this place who didn’t dislike her.

“Herald, are you… alright?”

She hadn’t even heard the door to their makeshift war room open.

“I could go get Cassandra, if you want. Or maybe Varric?” Cullen pressed, standing awkwardly by the doorway as if he was only waiting for an excuse to leave.

“It’s fine.” Adaar sighed as she forced herself to her feet. The smile was a bit slower coming but come it did. “I just made a bit of a fool of myself. Do you think they’d refuse me a drink?”

Cullen snorted, making both of them pause awkwardly, before he surged past it as if it had never happened. “I doubt they’d refuse anyone a drink, regardless of the early hour. However, you’re supposed to leave for the Hinterlands this afternoon and I wouldn’t make that ride drunk myself.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

The following pause was a long one. Neither one of them quite knew what to do, how to act around each other. Finally Cullen shrugged helplessly at the door. She nodded, relieved and followed him out.

They walked out of the Chantry together, a careful distance maintained between them. It had never been so difficult for Adaar to bring herself to start a conversation before and it wasn’t as if Cullen was trying either. It was hard to forget the suspicious glances Cullen had been giving her ever since she’d shown up here. Or more accurately, fallen out of a hole in the Fade. He’d answered her questions, of course he had, but conversation hadn’t exactly been forthcoming from that point.

“I’m going this way, actually,” he commented, nodding towards the path to the left.

“Me too. I was, ah, going to ask Solas if he would come with me to the Hinterlands.”

“Er, yes, mages and all that.”

Mages.

Right.

It was almost certainly easier for a cat and a mabari to get along at this point and Adaar couldn’t even bring herself to blame him for it. It wasn’t as if he was advocating for her execution. Things were simply awkward. Extremely awkward. She wouldn’t have had much faith in herself either if she’d just fallen out of a hole in the sky shortly after a few thousand were killed in an explosion.

As it was, the gaps in her memory were enough to make her question. If only Taarlok was around. He would have smacked her upside the head until there wasn’t a doubt left in her mind.

“She’s not usually like that, you know,” Cullen spoke up as they walked around the bend.

“Huh?”

“Josephine.” 

“And how exactly did you know I had been talking to Josephine?”

“I assumed,” Cullen replied dryly. Then his frown deepened at whatever thought was going through his mind. “You _were_ walking out of her office before taking refuge in the war room. But she’s not usually so tense. It’s just this entire thing has got her a bit out of sorts, especially since she has to create this… story about where you came from.”

Adaar huffed. “She’s not the only one. Besides, I’m more than capable of dealing with a bit a of unintentional snottiness. The issue was that I made a fool out of myself in front of a gorgeous woman and then she didn’t even so much as notice.”

“You-”

“Hit on her. There wasn’t much tact involved.”

Cullen started to laugh, motioning for them to stop as he clutched at his stomach, and Adaar let herself smile for the first time in days. It was a bit funny. Or maybe a lot funny. And Cullen didn’t seem nearly as tense around her as he had before when he finally managed to reign in his laughter. 

This could work. 

All she had to do was try and make them laugh a bit, and then maybe the others would relax as well.

* * *

_I’m not going to apologize for not responding to your letters. Not unless you give your word that you aren’t going to send Taarlok ahead to write up a proper contract between me and the Inquisition. This isn’t a job, not when they’ve gone and place me at the head of it all. Though I am surprised you didn’t send Kaariss anyways, if only to get rid of his poety for a couple weeks._

* * *

She should have been sleeping.

The sun disappeared behind the horizon hours ago and one of Harding’s scouts was keeping watch a short distance away. There was no conceivable reason for why Adaar wasn’t curled up in her blankets instead of staring at the slowly burning embers of their dying fire. But summoning the energy to get up was like attempting to move a mountain. Impossible and not worth the effort in the first place.

It had been a week of feeling like this. Of feeling like the world had lost its axis and everything had slowed to sudden stop. More specifically, ever since she’d found out about Josephine’s fiancee. And then left. Very quickly. So quickly in fact that a few people might have even commented on her fleeing the premises a full two days before she was supposed to. At least no one had known why but the missive she’d received from Varric that morning told her that this was no longer the case.

“I really didn’t believe I’d come to see the day,” came a voice to her right, laden with sleep, “where the Inquisitor deemed it unnecessary to plague us all with her snoring.”

“You really need to stop mistaking me for Bull,” Adaar shot back, not missing a beat.

“I reckon it’s Blackwall’s sword stuck in that tree back in the Hinterlands as well then.”

“There’s a good chance, yes.”

Dorian shot her an unamused look but he sat down next to her all the same. Neither of them said a word about his purposely casual attempts at straightening out his hair to return it to its normal state of perfection. It wasn’t entirely successful; there were a couple tufts that defiantely stood on end.

He almost certainly wanted to talk about the situation with her and Josephine. Otherwise he’d be back in his own tent - or Bull’s, she wasn’t certain which he’d crawled out of - instead of out here with her. It didn’t matter. Josephine had promised she’d get the whole thing sorted out as soon as she could and keeping her hands to herself until then was difficult, but doable. By all accounts, she shouldn’t be this upset about it. 

Josephine’s parents shouldn’t have pushed their relationship aside so easily.

“They’re not going to let her back out of it easily, you know,” Dorian pointed out. His gaze stayed on the fading embers and for that, Adaar would be forever grateful. She didn’t need pity.

“They should.”

“But they won’t.” At her frustrated sigh, he added, “It’s the heart of the thing, really. Eldest daughter runs off with - well, you, and so they arrange something to bring her back into the fold. A marriage, in this case. If they back down without a fuss then others see they can’t even control their children, nevermind prestige or finances.”

“That’s-”

“Horrible, I know. It’s a pity there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Except there was, Adaar realized with startling clarity. She didn’t have to go through Josephine’s parent, just this... count, whoever he was. And Josephine had said it herself, even if it hadn’t occurred to Adaar at the time. The fiancee was fond of duelling. And well, it might be a bit ridiculous to duel for Josephine’s hand in marriage when Josephine was perfectly capable of making decisions for herself but if the other option was to just let the marriage happen, she’d do it a thousand times over.

She’d have to ask Leliana to send him an invitation once she got back to Skyhold. No, not Leliana. If the spymaster got word of it then Josephine would find out within the hour and the whole thing would be called off. 

But Cullen could likely get a message to him.

“Oh no.”

Adaar looked over at Dorian, her train of thought momentarily cut off. “What is it?”

“You have that look on your face again. The same one you get whenever you’re about to throw yourself in front of some inane danger. You’re _plotting_ something.”

“The boss is plotting again?” Bull’s deep voice rumbled through the camp and both Adaar and Dorian turned to stare as he climbed out of his tent to join them. “What? Neither of you know the definition of quiet or a good night’s sleep.”

Dorian rolled his eyes but he sounded far more excited than exasperated. “Yes, she’s got an _idea_.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to have. What’s it about?”

“Getting our Lady Diplomat out of her sticky situation.”

“The marriage then. Let’s hear it.” And just like that, Bull sat himself on the other side of the fading fire as if this were just any other chat over tactics.

As if drawn by the commotion, Cole appeared. Only he didn’t step out of his tent, where Adaar had assumed he’d been hiding, but from the trees, slipping out of the shadows as if it were perfectly normal to be wandering around in the middle of the night. Harding’s scout likely hadn’t even noticed him leave. He took up the free spot between her and Bull, and then looked up at them from underneath the wide brim of his hat.

“The rabbits were lonely,” Cole offered in wispy explanation. “Huddling, hiding, hearing. Even the slightest sound might be one of _them_ , coming, finding, hunting them. Oh, I interrupted something. Please continue.”

“That… could have been a lot creepier, actually,” Bull commented. But he was still watching Cole from the corner of his eyes, clearly expecting that to change. “So, what do you have in mind, boss?”

Adaar took a deep breath while she sorted through her thoughts and then launched into an explanation, “Josephine’s parents won’t give up easily, if what Dorian says is true.” Dorian huffed with derision and she gave him a brief shrug. “But I don’t need Josephine’s parents to give up, I just need the count to, and before I left, Josephine mentioned he enjoys duelling. If I were to challenge him to a duel, he’d have no choice but to give up his engagement to her.”

“Going behind the Ambassador’s back and slighting her parents? Sneaky. I like it. We’ll need a neutral location though, otherwise either of you could be accused of cheating. Public too, as many witnesses as we can manage.”

“Neutral, busy, safe. People crowding, moving, flowing in every direction, not paying the slightest attention. All but one, pits of fire for eyes to match thick red, must be soft like a fine wine. Eyes immoveable, penetrating, lingering and there’s-”

“Sorry,” Dorian inserted before Cole’s observations could get any further, “that one was mine. However, we can’t choose the location. _That_ will be up to this count as we’ll be the ones to issue the challenge in the first place. I swear, this is all simple etiquette; you lot would be dead in a ditch somewhere without me.”

Bull rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, I’m sure human duelling practices are just as complicated as everything else you humans do.”

“Do… any of you actually know how to duel? Because I should probably learn,” Adaar commented casually, holding back a smile.

* * *

_That being said, you should know that Josephine isn’t just some mistress of mine or even a long-term fling. I know you’re the ones spreading those rumours - I’d recognize Katoh’s spin on a story in a heartbeat. Mostly because if I were to sleep with such a great number of women, I certainly wouldn’t bother going to each of their rooms. It would be much simpler to invite them all to my secluded, personal bedroom and work it out from there. But Katoh has always considered herself a one-person woman._

* * *

“Inquisitor Adaar, I didn’t think you’d be back until evening at the earliest.”

Adaar offered Josephine a smile and hoped it was less of an exhausted grimace than it felt. The ride back from the Exalted Plains had been long. If she hadn’t pushed everyone a bit farther than usual, then she wouldn’t have returned until tomorrow at least. But it wasn’t everyday Vivienne asked a favour from her and she hadn’t wanted to disappoint.

“A slight change in plan.” Adaar’s gaze slid over to the intricately dressed noblewoman at Josephine’s side who was nearly beaming with excitement. “I was actually just about to go change into something more comfortable. Or at least a bit less sweaty.”

“And more suitable for joining Lady Montilyet and I on a tour around the fortress, I hope. The architecture really is fascinating - I haven’t been able to place it yet,” the noblewoman interjected.

It was true. The light tunic Adaar wore underneath her heavy armour wasn’t appropriate for anything other than battle and by the annoyed huff, Josephine was well aware of that. Of course, it didn’t take much familiarity to read that particular tilt to her lover’s shoulders. It started and ended with thinly veiled annoyance.

“Inquisitor Adaar, this is the Duchess de Val Montaigne. Your Grace, this is the Inquisitor Adaar. Who I’m certain has much more important things to do with her time than following us around Skyhold,” Josephine pointed out dryly.

“Well, I suppose if that’s the case…”

“It’s fine,” Adaar insisted and then she smiled, soft and affectionate, at Josephine. “I don’t have anything pressing this afternoon as I wasn’t supposed to be back quite yet. And I’m not about to turn down a walk with a beautiful woman.”

Josephine’s sigh was fond if not long-suffering. “Very well. I will escort the Duchess to the gardens and we will wait for you there. Please don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

Her shoulder brushed against Josephine’s as Adaar bee-lined through the Main Hall to her quarters, feeling the extra bounce in her step from the promise of spending some well-deserved time with her beloved. It had been over a month of missions, constantly one thing after the other. She’d barely even noticed how much she missed Josephine until it was offhandedly pointed out to her that she’d only spent a handful of days in Skyhold recently. 

It was just luck that a dignitary wanted to see her at Skyhold instead of a midway point in some field or ruin this week, forcing her into a bit of downtown. Not that she was expecting much actual downtime to be had.

Adaar paused in front of her mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes. Her hair was tightly tied back in its usual knot to keep it out of her way but, well, Josephine enjoyed the way it looked when she let it down. There was the slightest bit of hesitation before she reached up and carefully undid the elaborate knot. It fell around her shoulders in thick waves and a run of her fingers through the coarse strands worked out the worst of the kinks. 

Just the way Josephine liked it.

It was nothing short of a miracle that no one stopped to talk to her in the Main Hall. Or it might have been if she didn’t spot Varric’s telltale smirk across the Hall. Adaar narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, and he grinned back, unashamed.

Her friends were meddlers. The entire lot of them.

But there was no better opportunity to take advantage of it. 

The gardens were almost entirely empty and one last maid scurried past, giggling at the sight of Adaar in the doorway. Josephine and the Orlesian noblewoman were the only exception to this. Perfect. There was no other way to explain the way Josephine looked against the background of pretty flowers and trees. Adaar walked down the steps into the garden proper, easily catching Josephine’s warm gaze.

“Inquisitor Adaar,” Josephine greeted her and the formal title sat oddly on her tongue.

“Josephine,” she countered. It was difficult to hide the way her lips wanted to twitch into a grin but that had been the case for the past couple months now. Ever since their first kiss. Pushing the reminder from her mind, she switched tracks and glanced towards the noblewoman. “And I’m sorry, but could you remind me of your name again? It’s been a long day and an even longer ride.”

That was the understatement of the year. Blackwall hadn’t quite managed to keep Sera away from the wine Adaar had picked up. And she had the sneaking impression Solas hadn’t even tried to. Which was fine. Or it would have been if Sera wasn’t a horrid lightweight and wasn’t so prone to complaining about her hangover.

The noblewoman beamed at her. “I am Duchess Nicole de Val Montaigne. But please, call me Nicole. I was just admiring your quaint courtyard here. It’s quite unlike anything you’d find in Orlais or Ferelden. But I have the feeling that if I were able to travel to Tevinter, their architecture may be vaguely similar. Otherwise, it’s completely original.”

“Unfortunately, the Inquisitor doesn’t pay much attention to the peculiarities of architecture,” Josephine said, all affection stripped from her voice.

Adaar frowned. That was unlike her. Josephine had far more patience for their guests than the rest of Skyhold combined and this had been proven on several occasions. At the very least, the Duchess seemed blissfully unaware of both the tone and the look Josephine had given her.

“Actually,” she interjected, “I have seen a courtyard a bit like this before. Granted, it was mostly in ruins but there was a similar one where I grew up.”

There it was again.

A subtle downwards curve of Josephine’s lips at the Duchess’s excited rambling about just how interested she was in these ruins and what it would mean for her field of interest. Adaar didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with it. 

It wasn’t just subtle frowns either or dry comments as they walked around Skyhold’s tall walls. Josephine refused to join in on the conversation, even when Adaar asked open-ended questions she knew Josephine could answer. It wasn’t long before the Duchess jumped to fill the small gaps in their conversation, drawing them half a step behind the ambassador. 

Maybe it was because of this last month or so. There was no denying it had been busy and they’d seen next to nothing of each other, just an evening or maybe even two curled up in front of the fireplace. She’d been the one to pursue this, after all. Josephine could have used that time to realize her feelings weren’t as strong as she’d assumed and just hadn’t yet figured out how to say it yet. Or the Duchess’s presence was preventing her from doing so.

It really just kept getting worse as well.

Adaar began dreading the seconds until they reached the Main Hall again but sooner rather than later, the three of them were making the trek up the stairs. The front doors hadn’t looked quite this daunting before, had they? Maybe they had because the Duchess reached for her arm which she silently sidestepped without a word.

That particular curve of Josephine’s lips entirely passed her by.

“It’s really been such a pleasure getting to know you, Lady Adaar,” the Duchess breathed out as they reached the doors to the Main Hall. “Perhaps we could continue our conversation over dinner tonight?”

Adaar smiled politely. “Of course. You’ll be joining us in the Main Hall, won’t you?”

“Well, it’s just that I was hoping we could dine in private tonight. It’s so difficult to have an intimate conversation with someone around so many people. Maybe up in your rooms? I hear the view is gorgeous.”

Oh. 

_Oh._

“I apologize on her behalf,” Josephine cut in, ignoring Adaar’s wide-eyed look as she stepped between them. Her polite smile bordered on murderous. “However, Adaar is currently in a very serious relationship and thus will, undoubtedly, refuse your offer. In the meantime, her and I are going to retire for the evening. You should be able to find your own way back to your room without much trouble.”

Josephine was _jealous_. Adaar had thought - well, it didn’t really matter what she’d thought, not considering the truth of the matter. 

Now, the only thing she was concerned about was how to react to this situation. Maybe she would sweep this beautiful woman up into her arms and kiss her until there was no doubt about either of their feelings. Already her cheeks were straining from the effort of withholding her smile.

The Duchess glanced between them, shocked realization spreading across her face. “Oh I didn’t know the two of you were together. I had heard the rumours, of course I had, but it’s so difficult to tell truth from gossip these days.”

“Feel free to correct others on their mistakes as well then,” Josephine murmured. There was still a hint of hostility to her voice but nothing compared to what it had been a few moments ago. 

“In that case, would you be interested in sharing for the night? You are _both_ incredibly attractive women, after all, and I would be honoured by any such arrangement.”

That was really all it took for Adaar’s mind to come to a sudden halt. 

It was a bit like fighting the undead, she noted absently. Everytime she expected there to be a pause, the hits just kept on coming. Hacking off an arm or a leg never gave them pause, not like any other creature. At least this woman didn’t seem bothered by a setback. In fact, she even looked a bit more thrilled than she had before. 

Her gaze caught Josephine’s as Adaar realized she wasn’t reacting, wasn’t immediately saying no. Heat had gathered high in Josephine’s cheek but she looked far more hesitant than she had any right to be. Did she really think this was something Adaar wanted? It seemed ridiculous but there was that hesitancy there. The little faces Josephine always made when she doubted the course of action she wanted to take.

“No,” Adaar cut in gently. “I can’t speak for Josephine but I wouldn’t be comfortable sharing her with anyone.”

Tension eased out of Josephine and she took half a step back, reaching for Adaar’s fingers. They intertwined, warm and steady.

“Such a shame. Please, feel free to contact me if you ever change your mind.”

The front door closed behind her before either of them could recover from the offer. Josephine did first then she tugged Adaar aside and pushed her up against the stone. Their lips met in the middle, lacking any sort of urgency between them. 

“A very serious relationship?” Adaar murmured as Josephine let her head drop to her chest with a sigh on her lips.

“You,” Josephine muttered, “are such a _tease_.”

* * *

_This isn’t like any of my relationships from before either. I’m not going to leave Josephine anytime soon, no matter what happens, and you’re going to be there when I introduce her to you lot. And maybe, once this mess has finally cleared itself up, I’ll ask her to marry me. You and the others might even be invited to the wedding if you don’t get yourself killed before then. If not, the others can’t protest a bit of extra security and I have the gold to pay the cost._

* * *

“You’re smiling,” Josephine murmured.

Adaar hummed in acknowledgement. It was difficult not to smile. Not when her dream was still so fresh in her mind. She just hoped it had been more telling of what was to come rather than what could have been. For the sake of tomorrow’s battle with Corypheus, she’d hold onto that dream, let it drive her to fight for the things and for the life she wanted. They all needed to hold onto their hope now.

The gentle motion of Josephine’s thumb on her shoulder drew her attention back to the woman in her arms. The press of their naked skin was always tempting but the slow warmth of the morning prevented her from acting on it for the moment. She wanted to savour this now. They would both be desperate to express their feelings once the sun set again.

Maybe by then sharing a tent with Josephine would stop feeling strange.

She turned her head towards her lover, lips pressed to the top of Josephine’s head. “I dreamt about our wedding.”

“Our wedding?”

“Mhmm.”

Josephine stifled a soft laugh and curled further into Adaar, her breath a warm constant against the Inquisitor’s collarbone. “And just what was our wedding like?”

“Beautiful,” Adaar stated simply and Josephine really did laugh this time. “We walked up to the Sister together but everyone’s eyes were on you. You were wearing this stunning dress, gold with bits of white ribbon and cloth throughout. I nearly mistook you for a queen. But in the end, I was more interested in the way you were smiling at me; it was like you didn’t have a worry in the world.”

“You’re… not Andrastian though.”

Adaar laughed. “I didn’t think I was much of anything. But you are.”

“You are impossible.”

“A side effect of being in love with you.”

“ _Impossible_.”

“You’ll drive yourself into an early grave attempting to make sure everything’s perfect. Then someone will set the tables with the wrong flowers and they’ll never manage to forget it, the way you’d bring it up in every conversation,” Adaar teased and her smile only grew at the thought. 

It made it feel all the more real.

Josephine snorted. “And either Cassandra or Dorian can have the dubious honour of convincing you not to show up in your armour.”

“You never know, some lordling might attempt to steal you away from me mid-ceremony.”

“As if they would dare.”

* * *

_Do I need to say I miss you all? It should be implied but I’ll say it even though you’ll hit me for it later. I miss you and the rest of them. Maybe not Ashaad but we’d be square if he bought me a new broadsword. Not that we need more weapons around here._

* * *

“Is there a problem?”

Dorian purposely eyed the small pile of weapons beside her tent before slowly drawing his gaze up to Adaar’s face. “No, of course not. Why would you assume there’s a problem?” 

She frowned. It wasn’t as if they were _that_ bad. Though she couldn’t figure out why such a well-made broadsword had been hiding in the cellar of some dusty old castle instead of being used. She would almost trade it out for her own sword but… well, hers had the advantage of familiarity. It would take weeks for her to get used to the differences in weight and length.

Or, more generally, to a sword that didn’t burst into flame the moment she picked it up.

Even if Cassandra or Bull didn’t want it, there would always be some use for it. Cullen was always complaining about how the soldiers didn’t have enough weapons to go around. 

“It seems like you have a problem,” Adaar insisted. “You keep looking around and frowning. I know we aren’t exactly the Imperium but we’re trying.”

Dorian shifted awkwardly for what had to be the fiftieth time that evening. “Yes, I am aware of that.”

Varric snorted from the other side of the campsite and looked back at the two of them from over his shoulder. “He’s not worried about our accommodations, Herald. Well, not enough to do anything about it. He’s worried about what Ruffles is going to say when we get back to Skyhold with half an armoury.”

“Josephine?” Adaar said faintly. 

“Know any other Antivan women hanging around the Inquisition? And here I thought you liked her.”

“I don’t-”

Adaar quickly aborted the sentence with a strangled whimper that came straight from the back of her throat. But Varric was still watching her with that confident, all-knowing smirk of his. She quickly trained her gaze on the ground to avoid so much as glancing at Dorian or Bull.

It was bad enough that Cassandra had already pointed out her growing feelings. Adaar really didn’t need to know just how obvious she was about it all. Except if she were truly being obvious about her feelings then Josephine would have already noticed by now, instead of obliviously stepping around every hint she put out there. There had been a lot of them.

Most of the weapons would have to go. Maybe there were one or two of the higher quality ones that she’d keep - Sera had been complaining about her bow last week and that broadsword really was nice. 

“What, pray tell, are the two of you talking about?” Dorian asked, nearly hesitant.

“Ah, you haven’t see her talk to Ruffles yet, have you? Our heralded Inquisitor is, ahem, _rather_ fond of Josie. Someone, let’s say me, might even go so far as to say she’s completely besotted with the ambassador.” 

“I’m not besotted with Josephine!” she insisted.

But her cheeks were already flushed which was normally almost unnoticeable in itself. Only she hadn’t washed her white vitaar off yet, making the involuntary action as clear as day.

“See what I mean, Sparkler? Completely besotted.”

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed the demons,_

* * *

“Why the demons?”

Adaar blinked down at Josephine, startled out of the languish comfort she’d managed to settle into. Or perhaps she’d just managed to have a few too many drinks. They had made their way through almost an entire bottle of the finest Orlesian wine Duchess Montaigne had been able to procure. A goodbye present, the noblewoman had called it, as well as hope for their future cooperation.

“Demons?”

Josephine took a sip from her glass and nodded, the movement sending her hair tumbling over her shoulder. “Yes. The demons. You decided to send that… mercenary group of yours after a _nest of demons_ rather than something more suitable. Like the escort mission.”

There was no holding back her snort.

Of course that would sound reasonable to a human. They were always overly concerned about the possibility of the people they cared about getting hurt in battle. And yet, those who fought still saw being sent after the weaker opponent or ordered to guard a less contested area as an insult to their personal strength. It was a paradox she would never understand. 

But Josephine wasn’t a fighter. She would never really understand how someone’s honour could be so directly tied to their strength, both in and out of battle. If Adaar was being entirely honest with herself, she would admit she liked it that way.

“I knew they’d be able to handle it,” she said, rather than explain her views of falling in battle.

“Of course you did.”

Her frown came at the exhausted tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s simply… you always seem to have this belief that everything will work. It doesn’t matter if you’re dealing with the Chantry or Corypheus. Having that much faith is difficult sometimes. But I believe that’s why everyone holds so much hope that you’ll fix things,” Josephine explained and she shifted so she could look at Adaar rather than lean on her shoulder.

If Adaar took what Josephine was saying for granted, then it made sense. First, she was set apart by the mark carved into her hand. Then they let themselves look to her for guidance because she refused to accept the possibility of losing. Not just because she was a good leader or because she was trying to help them but because they felt they had few other options. 

Was this what everyone in a position of such authority felt like? It was hard to imagine the Champion of Kirkwall, the Hero of Ferelden, even Andraste herself stumbling into such a position. They must have had some idea of what they were doing. 

Yet they’d chosen her because of her unfortunate habit of barging into rooms with screaming people inside. 

Josephine sighed and leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m doing what exactly?”

“I would say thinking yourself incompetent but I doubt such a thing is truly possible.” The corners of Josephine’s lips as she held back a smile and Adaar was filled with the urge to truly kiss her until she forgot her own name. “It’s likely more of a general confusion and given our topic, doubt over what you’re doing in the Inquisition.”

Adaar laughed softly. “And did you think you’d become the diplomat for the organization holding Thedas together when you turned away from your life as a bard? I’m still trying to process meeting Hawke and yet people keep comparing me to the Hero of Ferelden.”

“No, I suppose not. But you are a natural leader, whether you believe it or not.”

“Oh, I am, am I?”

“Do I hear a challenge? You should know better than that by now,” Josephine murmured and she gently pried the glass from Adaar’s hand.

“I don’t know why I’d stop,” Adaar mused as she waited. Their glasses shone from the flicker of flame in the fireplace when they were set on the floor. “It always turns out rather well, in my opinion. I like it when you get feisty.”

“You’re impossible.”

The words were both fond and familiar, and Adaar took that as her cue to push forward, capturing Josephine’s lips with her own. Josephine kissed back, their urgency matched bit for bit. Then their kiss turned gentle. The moment carefully treasured between the two of them. They left no room to doubt each other’s feeling for even a moment. Adaar slowly drew back, their foreheads resting together and Josephine watched her with dark, heated eyes.

She’d never want it any other way.

* * *

_Adaar_


End file.
